Discoveries of Old
by Sunfire Scribble
Summary: Willow's got a secret, and Spike wants to know what it is. W/S
1. Prologue and Chapter 1

Prologue:

The only sound in the small dorm room was the click of computer keys as Willow's hands practically flew across the keyboard. It had taken her almost two and a half years to build contacts in the pagan online community, but with determination and a little help from some files she had found on Jenny Calendar's computer, Willow had found acceptance in the exclusive group. It was through the community that she had met the person she was currently instant messaging. The computer made a quiet beep, and the window changed as the reply appeared on the screen.

~MysticTree~ Merry Meet! Evening Trav.

~TimelessTraveler~ Hey Mysty. How was your day?

~MysticTree~ I got a 98 % on my dissertation on Neurological Disorders, and I got the highest grade in the class on my history test.

~TimelessTraveler~ That's fantastic, I knew you could do it.

~MysticTree~ Yeah, I love my history class. We just finished the Celtic clans and we're going to start the Welsh next week.

~TimelessTraveler~ I'm glad you're enjoying it. How is everything else?

~MysticTree~ Pretty good. I've been working on my concentration, and focusing like you said. It's helping quite a bit.

~TimelessTraveler~ I'm glad. Emotional control, focus and concentration, can really improve your casting abilities.

~MysticTree~ Yeah, I've noticed that my spells have been better lately.

~TimelessTraveler~ It's getting pretty late. Shouldn't you be getting ready?

~MysticTree~ You're right. I should be going. Same time, right?

~TimelessTraveler~ Yes. Same as always.

~MysticTree~ Just checking. I'll see you then.

~TimelessTraveler~ Be safe.

~MysticTree~ Always.

End Prologue

Chapter 1

The fight started out slow, but soon began to gain in speed and intensity. He seemed to move with an almost effortless grace, while his female opponent appeared to concentrate greatly as she avoided his advances. If an observer had been present they would have been hard pressed to say when exactly the swords had been brought into play, but they were, and the sound of steel against steel soon echoed through the air as the two parried and blocked each other's moves.

As the moves became more frenzied, the man was able to penetrate her defenses, leaving a long cut on her shoulder. Momentarily distracted by the pain in her arm, she stumbled and was unable to block his next move before he made contact with her lower abdomen.

Her left arm moved to block the wound, her feet stumbling slightly as she tried to counter his next thrust. The slight loss of balance was all the opening he needed and a sharp clang was heard as he knocked the sword out of her hands. The bright fluorescent lights reflected off of the man's blade as it cut through the air in a smooth arc, headed towards the neck of the young woman who lay on the ground, her short red hair falling around her face.

There was nothing unusual about the fact that the young woman stood in her shower at 10:30 at night, but the red tinted water swirling around the drain betrayed the normality of the action. The young woman hissed in pain as she ran the wash cloth over her stomach. Continuing to clean herself, she listened to the soft refrains that drifted in from the small stereo system in the next room. As the minutes went by, the water turned a light pink before finally becoming clear as all of the blood was washed from the woman's body.

Shutting off the water and stepping out of the shower, she dried off, then wrapped her thin form in a large navy blue towel. Slowly walking into the adjoining bedroom, she took off the towel and used it to ring out her hair so that it was no longer dripping water onto the carpet. Dropping the now wet towel, she carefully made her way to her dresser where she opened a fairly large and well-stocked first aid kit.

Removing a tube of antibacterial ointment, she liberally covered the lower left portion of her stomach, as well as her left shoulder and a small section on her right calf. Next, she took several pieces of first aid tape and used them to place butterfly sutures over the wound on her abdomen. Once she had closed the cut, she taped several layers of gauze over it. Repeating the process on her shoulder and leg, the woman proceeded to examine the various other bruises and cuts that littered her pale skin.

Deciding that the smaller injuries did not need further care, she slipped on a lose t-shirt. Turning off the light and slipping between her pale yellow sheets, she allowed the soft music to lead her into slumber's waiting arms.

End Chapter One


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two:

Willow walked cautiously down the hall towards her dorm room, and quietly opening the door, she stepped inside. Turning around, she headed over to her bookcase where she picked up her Latin and history books and put them into her bag. Just as she was about to leave the room, the door opened, revealing the blonde slayer as she entered the room the two young women shared.

"Hey Will. Long time no see. Where were you last night? You were gone when I got back from patrol, and you never came in last night. I was worried." Placing her purse on her bed, Buffy looked expectantly at her roommate.

"I, um, well... I've been pretty busy lately. You know, studying and stuff."

"You were studying all night last night?" Disbelief was clear in the blonde's voice as she looked over at her friend.

"Well, not exactly. I was at the bookstore until really late, getting some books for my English paper. When I was done, I just went back to my parent's house. It was late and their house was closer than the dorm. Plus I promised I would check on the house every couple of days while they're on vacation." The hacker nervously chewed on her bottom lip as she waited to see her friend's reaction to her explanation.

"Oh, ok. I was just kind of worried when you weren't here this morning."

"Sorry, I'll try and let you know if I'm going to be staying at the house. That way you won't have to worry."

"All right." Before the blonde had the chance to voice the question Willow could see forming, the witch glanced none too subtly at her watch.

"Look, I've got to go, some people in my Science class are getting together to study for our test tomorrow and I don't want to be late." Before the last word had left her mouth, she'd grabbed her now full bag and left the room, leaving Buffy no choice but to simply watch as the redhead headed off down the hall.

The members of Sunnydale's resident demon hunters talked amongst themselves as Spike sat in the living room, listening. The slayer's high pitched voice drifted to his ears as she explained to her watcher what had happened at school that day.

"Yeah. She just walked off, saying she had a study group or something. She's been doing that a lot lately. It's like she's avoiding me or something."

"Well, do you have any reason to believe she is attempting to limit her time in your, uh, presence?" A hint of concern marred the Englishman's accent as he questioned the young woman in front of him.

"I don't know. I can't think of why she would be avoiding me, but she's been acting kind of strange lately. Sometimes when I try to talk to her, it's like she's somewhere else."

"So, she's been distracted?" Buffy nodded her head in agreement with his words. "Maybe she's just a little preoccupied with school."

"No, I think it's something else. I've noticed the same things that Buff has. I've tried to talk to her about it, but she always seems to change the subject. I mean, I've hardly seen her in the last three months. She doesn't get together with us anymore unless it's a research party, or an end of the world prevention thing. Whenever one of us asks her to go somewhere, or do something, she always says she has homework, or a test to study for." Xander commented as he removed a candy bar from his bag.

"Well, maybe she has something better to do." The ex-demon shrugged her shoulders in response to the glares she received from the others. "What? It _has_ been over three months since Oz left. Maybe she finally got herself a new orgasm friend. I mean, if I were her, I would have gotten one a long time ago. I don't know how she's gone as long as she has without sex." Buffy and Xander rolled their eyes at the characteristic reply from the girl while Giles merely shook his head at her forthright attitude.

"Despite the vulgar bluntness, I think Anya might actually have a point. Perhaps Willow does have a new gentleman friend with whom she has been spending her time, as of late."

"I guess it's possible. But if it were a guy, why wouldn't she tell Xan or me? I mean, we're her friends."

"Maybe she wants to keep it a secret. I've heard that mystery does add something to the sex." As usual, Anya's tact was less than apparent.

"I don't know. I mean, I still think she would have told us, although that would explain why she's been sleeping at her parents' house lately." The blonde shrugged her shoulders. "Well, if that's the case, then I think we should all be happy for her. Plus it doesn't hurt that she hasn't been whining nearly as much as she used to. Whoever it is, I'd certainly like to thank him. I'd gotten pretty tired of listening to her complain about Oz constantly." The others nodded their heads in agreement.

The former vengeance demon looked over at the slayer, somewhat put off by the girl's last statement. She had spent over a thousand years granting wishes for woman just like Willow, who had been deeply hurt and betrayed by a lover. The hacker may have complained and moped for a month or two, then brooded for a couple more, but in the end, had handled the situation with a lot more maturity and understanding than the majority of the woman that she had helped.

Anya pulled her thoughts back to the present as Xander asked her to hand him the chocolate bar he had stashed in her purse. Rolling her eyes at her boyfriend, she glanced over at the clock, wondering how long they would have to remain at the watcher's house. She had plans with Xander to go see a movie and then go back to his basement to have sex. She really didn't want to be late.

The vampire was surprised when the occupants of the small apartment went back to their various tasks. When the conversation first started, he had expected to have to listen to them drone on about the witch for at least an hour. Instead it had only lasted about fifteen minutes; and while he was grateful that he didn't have to listen to them, he found that his curiosity had been piqued.

He knew first hand what betrayal could do to a person, or a vampire for that matter, and he doubted that the girl could have gotten over the wolf so quickly without any help. From what he could tell, she had gone through it by herself. By the time he had shown up at the watcher's townhouse on Thanksgiving, her friends had already grown tired of her misery and the wolf had only left her about two weeks earlier. In the months he had been there, her friends had done nothing to help the heartbroken girl deal with the pain of her loss.

It had taken him months, and a whole lot of killing, to get over his princess. *I'd bet that she's had help. There's no way that she's gone from the pathetic, depressed girl she was when I got here, to the happy, if not preoccupied one she has been lately. Maybe Anya's right and she has found someone to help her forget about the fur ball.* The vampire wasn't sure why that idea didn't sit well with him. However, he was unable to further explore his reaction to the thought of the hacker with another man, as the object of his thoughts entered the apartment.

Several distracted 'hi's and 'hello's greeted the witch as she went over to the table to grab a book. After glancing around, she made her way over to the only empty seat left in the small home, right next to Spike. The young woman slowly lowered herself onto the couch, emitting a quiet grunt when her body made contact with the piece of furniture. So quiet, in fact that if it hadn't been for his superior vampire hearing the blonde probably wouldn't have even caught it.

Using his peripheral vision, he watched as she gingerly sat the book in her lap and began to skim the text in search of pertinent information on the current threat to the residents of Sunnydale. He took in her appearance and frowned at the loose khaki colored pants and light blue long-sleeve shirt. *It must be ninety degrees outside, why is she wearing pants and long sleeves?* Now that he thought about it, she had been wearing similar attire for weeks, despite the hot weather. Shaking his head at her strange behavior, he went back to reading his book.

Nearly three hours passed in which the turning of pages and the crumpling of Xander's candy wrapper were the only sounds in the townhouse. The silence was broken when Buffy suddenly stood and closed the book that she had been reading. "It's getting late. I should patrol. I've got a date with Riley tonight and I don't want to be late," the slayer announced as she gathered her things to leave.

"Does that mean we can go now?" Anya was eager to leave the watcher's house so that she and Xander could get to the movie they were planning on watching.

"Yes, you are all free to leave. I will need everyone to return tomorrow morning, though, so that we can continue." The teenagers nodded their heads in agreement before leaving.

"Giles, would it be all right if I stayed a little longer? I found something in the book I'm reading that refers to a group of demons a lot like the one we encountered. I wanted to look them up online, but I'll probably need to refer to the book, and don't want to carry it to the dorm just to carry it back tomorrow." The redhead gestured to the large tome as proof of her reluctance to carry it.

"Why, yes, of course Willow. That would be perfectly all right. You may stay as long as you'd like." The watcher smiled at the hacker, pleased that she had chosen to remain and help.

Willow took her laptop out of her bag and plugged it into the phone jack in the wall. Connecting to the Internet, she began her search. She remained in that position for the next two hours, only moving her head to glance occasionally at the book beside her. When it seemed likely that she would never find the information she was looking for, her head shot up and she gestured enthusiastically to the watcher. "I found it!" Giles walked over to where the girl was sitting to see what exactly she had found.

"See, it's a Vanour demon. They aren't very strong, but they are exceptionally fast, and hard to find. They only come out every three weeks, and don't stay in one place very long, so it's rare to see them more than twice. Buffy first saw it last week, so it should come out of hiding sometime toward the end of next week. If Buffy can surprise it, all she has to do is cut off its left leg. Apparently that's where its heart is. They aren't good fighters so it should be relatively easy to kill. As long as it doesn't run, she should have no problem."

"Thank you very much Willow. If you'd like, you're free to go now. I'll call the others and inform them that they need not come over tomorrow."

She nodded her head and put her computer back in its case. While the watcher went to call Buffy and Xander, she slowly stood and placed the book on the bookshelf. "Is it all right if I have a glass of water before I leave?"

"Of course, help yourself." The older man said as he dialed Xander's number.

Spike watched as she walked stiffly to the kitchen. Turning off the television, he followed her. She turned as he came into the room behind her. "Spike, did you want something?" In response, he held up the box of Wheat-A-Bits that he had picked up. "Oh, ok," she said, going back to the cupboard to get a glass. Reaching up with her right arm, she hissed as her muscles protested to the movement.

"You ok ducks?"

"Yeah, just stiff from sitting so long." Making her way back over to the freezer, she put some ice in her glass. Turning to go back to the sink to fill it with water, she ran into Spike, who was about to get a bag of blood from the fridge. She let out a gasp of pain and her hand flew to her left shoulder. Spike smelled the blood before he saw it. She held her hand over the obvious wound as the dark red blood began to seep through the material of her sleeve.

"Ah, shit." The blonde raised his eyebrows at the quiet exclamation, never having heard the witch curse before. "Spike, would you go out and get my bag off the couch?" When he didn't move, she pushed him out of the way. He noticed her look around the room warily; making sure the watcher was no where in sight before she went back into the living room to fetch her bag. She then quickly went into the bathroom and shut the door behind her.

She emerged five minutes later, wearing a gray sweater in place of the now bloody shirt. "What was that about pet?" The vampire asked, gesturing to her arm. The only thing he could figure out was that she had hurt her arm recently, and from the amount of bleeding, he guessed it was a fairly bad injury. *She hasn't patrolled with the slayer lately. According to her friends, she hasn't done anything but study. So how did the chit hurt her shoulder?*

Something was going on with the redhead, and it wasn't just some new guy as her friends assumed. He stood next to her as she picked up the bag containing her computer and noticed her grimace of pain as she slung it over her shoulder. Before she could answer, Giles returned from upstairs.

"Hey Giles." Spike could hear just a touch of relief in her voice. "I'm going to leave. I've got a big paper due in two days and I still haven't gotten much of it done."

"Oh, then by all means, go. I've kept you long enough." Opening the door for her, he gave her a small smile. "Your help has been much appreciated."

"You're welcome Giles. I'll see you later." Spike's eyes followed her as she exited the apartment, question after question tumbling through his mind. He didn't understand why it bothered him that she was acting so strangely, he just knew something was definitely going on, and he didn't like it one bit.

End Chapter Two


	3. Chapter 3 and 4

Chapter Three

The moonlight reflected off the headstones, casting an eerie glow throughout the small cemetery. Quiet footsteps sounded as the young woman slowly made her way through the maze of headstones and mausoleums. Turning her head slightly to the left, she looked around as if searching for someone or something. As she walked around the corner of one of the large crypts, she stopped and stood still for several seconds before spinning quickly and kicking out with her left leg in an upward arc, connecting with the chest of the approaching individual.

As her left foot hit the ground, she reached behind her back and withdrew a sword from its scabbard under her sweatshirt. Bringing it around in front of her, she moved into a fighting stance, her left foot somewhat behind her with her body turned slightly, her sword grasped firmly in her hands and positioned to strike.

The long blade seemed to dance through the air in her small hands, but the fluid, graceful movements of the tall man across from her were able to easily block any advance she attempted. After about ten minutes of fighting, he bought his sword up, and then back down, directly towards her head. The woman saw the move coming and leaned to the side as the blade cut through the air, narrowly missing her arm. She had really begun to hate that sword.

Glaring up at the man's laughing face, she brought her sword up to block his before it reached its target. Spinning on her right foot, she swung her sword towards his midsection. Her opponent was able to dodge her blade, however, and turned, coming up from behind her. With a sweeping motion, he kicked her feet out from under her, causing her to land hard on her right hip and lose hold of her weapon in the process.

Adam saw his small friend hit the ground, and placing his blade into it's scabbard, made his way quickly to her side. Reaching out with his right hand, he pulled the redhead to her feet and watched as she gingerly brushed the dirt from her clothing. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah, I'm okay." A slight grunt of pain escaped her lips as she sheathed her own sword.

"How about I walk you home?" She nodded in agreement, and the two left the cemetery. They had covered several blocks when Adam stopped and looked suspiciously around the dark streets; sensing someone watching them.

"What is it?"

"I don't know, just a weird feeling." With one more glance, he took the young woman's hand and increased their pace. "Let's just get you home, shall we?" They reached the two-story home several minutes later.

Fishing her keys from the front pocket of her jeans, she unlocked the door and turned to her friend. "Thanks for walking me home." Smiling, she hugged him close. "G'night Trav. I'll talk with you Friday, around five, okay?"

Placing a light kiss on each of her cheeks, he hugged her back. Sleep tight my little Mys." With a small wave, the two separated, the redhead disappearing into the dark house, as Adam continued down the scantly lit suburban street.

The vampire exhaled a cloud of smoke as he turned the corner onto the quiet street. He stopped short in his tracks when a strange feeling overcame him. Stepping behind a tall tree, he looked up and down the street for the source of the feeling. He was surprised when he saw the two figures turn the corner in front of him. He recognized the shock of scarlet hair immediately, but the tall man at her side was unfamiliar to him. He was surprised when the man stopped and looked around him as if aware of the blonde's eyes on the pair. *Well, well, what do we have here?*

Following the two at a discreet distance and making sure to remain hidden, Spike watched as they approached the witch's residence. An unidentifiable feeling settled in the pit of his stomach as the dark-haired gentleman kissed the petite hacker. He wasn't sure what it was, but he knew he didn't like it. Spinning on his booted heel, he turned and stalked away from the small porch. *Things just got a bit more intriguing.*

End Chapter Three

Chapter Four

*Five-thirty in the afternoon and it's still hot as hell out.* The hacker shook her head in frustration. Waving her hand in front of her face in an attempt to cool herself, she wished, for the hundredth time that day that she didn't have to wear the long sleeves and pants that had become her daily attire. She had been about to start getting ready for her meeting with Adam when she had received a call from Giles, asking her to return a spell book she had borrowed the week before.

*He had to choose tonight to reorganize his bookshelves.* Knocking on the door, she hoped the peroxide blonde wouldn't be there, his questions at the research session three days before having made her a bit uneasy. Her hopes were dashed, however, when the watcher opened the door to reveal the vampire seated comfortably on the couch.

"Hey Giles, I brought the book," she greeted, tilting her head towards her book bag.

"Good afternoon Willow. Please, come in. I was just making a fresh pot of tea; I'll be right with you." Waving the girl inside, he shut the door and returned to the kitchen as the teakettle whistled shrilly.

Spike heard her enter the apartment and watched as she slowly walked over to the small chair. He knew that if he hadn't been watching her so closely he would not have noticed that she walked with a slight limp, favoring her right leg. His careful observation also noted that her face screwed up in an almost imperceptible grimace as she set the bag on the ground and took a seat. Placing the remote on the couch next to him, he smirked over at the witch. "So, did you finish that paper the other day, pet?"

Cursing silently to herself, she turned to face the vampire. "Yeah, I did. Why?"

"No reason, just wondering." He gave a casual shrug, then changed the subject. "The slayer mentioned you stayed at your parent's house again. You've been doing that a lot lately haven't you?"

"It's none of your business where I stay, Spike." Her tone was a little more brisk than she had intended but she really didn't care.

"Touchy touchy. I was merely making small talk. It's not like I'm the only one that's been talking about it lately anyway. It seems to be a frequent topic of conversation amongst your friends the last few days." The group hadn't actually discussed it since that one day earlier that week, but he didn't have to tell her that.

"Of course, according to them, you've been sleeping elsewhere because you've got yourself a new, now how did demon girl put it? Ah, yes, a new orgasm friend." He watched her face carefully, looking for any sign that her friend's assumption was correct. It hadn't appeared that she had that type of relationship with the man he had seen her with, but he had been hiding behind a tree at the time too.

A light blush covered her cheeks and she stared at him wide-eyed. "Not that it's anyone's business other than my own, but I am not using my parent's house to secretly fuck somebody, Ok? I've been spending a lot of time at the library and bookstore lately and their house is closer than the dorms. So just mind your own damn business."

The sharp tone and rather blunt wording she had used surprised the blonde. *When the hell did she get an attitude?* Despite her explanation, he still didn't believe that she was sleeping at home because of her late night study sessions. She had been avoiding her friends and he knew it had something to do with the dark-haired man he had seen her with. *She may not be shaggin' the bloke but they sure seemed a hell of a lot closer than studybuddies.* Before he could continue his inquiry, the watcher entered the room holding a steaming cup of tea.

The redhead rose from her seat and retrieved the book from her bag, handing to the older man. "Here you go Giles."

"Thank you Willow, I'm sorry to have brought you all the way over here, I hope I didn't disturb your plans for the evening."

"It was no problem, and you didn't interrupt anything. Although I do have another paper to finish this weekend that's going to take me awhile. I should probably get home and work on it."

"Yes, of course, go right ahead. Thank you for the book."

"You're welcome. Call me if you need help researching or anything this weekend."

"I will. Good bye."

"Bye." The red-haired witch picked up her bag, flinching when it came in contact with her back and shoulder. She opened the door and waved to the former librarian as she left the apartment. Spike waited several minutes after she left before mumbling a 'later mate' to the watcher and making his way through the streets of Sunnydale to the hacker's home.

His vampiric speed enabled him to reach the house mere moments after she did. He had only been standing there five minutes when he noticed the same man he had seen with her before, approaching the Rosenberg residence. Stepping behind a large tree for the second time that week, he watched as the man knocked on the door.

Willow opened the door a moment later, giving the man a hug before the two headed down the street. He noticed that the girl had changed into a lose long sleeve white T-shirt and gray sweet pants as opposed to the long sleeved black shirt and green cargo pants she had been wearing at the watcher's. *A paper, huh? Why don't I believe that?*

Spike left his hiding place and followed about a block behind them, recalling how the man had somehow noticed his presence the last time. They had been walking for about fifteen minutes when they stopped and entered a large building. The vampire waited until they were inside before going around to the back of the building where he broke the lock on the service door and went inside.

Making his way through the back offices, he soon found himself in what appeared to be a gym. There was a wide range of exercise equipment with various people milling around using the different machinery. On the wall across from where he was standing there was a large sign reading, 'Sunnydale Health Club: Members Only.' *What are you up to, Red?*

End Chapter Four


	4. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

He had only been standing there for a minute or so when he saw the witch and her male companion entering the room. Making sure he was hidden from their view, he watched as the young woman greeted the other club members. It was obvious that she had been there several times before, having known each individual by name. The two engaged in small talk with the others for a few minutes before the tall dark-haired gentleman lead the redhead through a door and into a private exercise room. Going back through the hallways in the rear of the building, Spike found another door to the room the two were in. Luckily, the door had a small window and was situated in a location where he could safely observe them without being seen.

By the time he reached the door, the hacker had taken off her long sleeve top and pants to reveal a pair of loose running shorts, a black sports bra and light gray tank top. The room was very large, with what looked like a an obstacle course on one side and a few exercise machines, free weights, and a boxing ring on the other. The vampire stood at the door and watched as the two talked back and forth as they headed over to the obstacle course.

"So, you wanna start with the course tonight?" Willow asked, turning to her friend.

"Sure, we could do that. Why don't you do a couple stretches, and I'll make sure everything is set up." At the nod from his small student, he walked over to the course. After checking the apparatus for a few minutes, Adam was satisfied that everything was as he had left it and motioned for her to join him.

"Ok, it's ready. You still remember what to do, right?" The girl nodded her head once more and positioned herself at the course's starting point. "Then I'll tell you when I start the timer, and you can begin." He looked down at the stopwatch in his left hand and held up his right. Bringing his right hand down, he pressed the start button and called out, "Go."

As soon as the word had left his lips, the witch was running down the path, weaving back and forth with the markers. She soon came across the first obstacle, and with perfect balance, quickly crossed the thin balance beam. Jumping down, she ran ahead until reaching a rope ladder. Once she had climbed the swinging ladder, she swiftly maneuvered the three successive sets of steps. Coming up to a row of hanging rings, she jumped up and caught a hold of the first ring. As she continued across the several feet of rings, she swung from one hand to the next until reaching the other end. Letting go and landing gracefully on her feet, she then ran through a series of tires and turned a corner.

She stopped for a split second when she ran into the ten-foot high wall before grabbing the rope that was hanging from the ceiling, directly in front of the wall. Holding tightly with both hands, she pulled herself up, placing both feet flat on the vertical surface. With each step she took, she placed one hand over the other, pulling hard on the rope.

The top of the wall leveled off, and once she had traversed it, she sprinted across the final twenty feet. At this point, the track suddenly disappeared and a ten-foot drop greeted her. Without slowing her pace, she jumped off the precipice. She hit the ground, and reaching out with her hands, immediately went into a roll before coming to her feet once again to find Adam's smiling face above her.

As she came out of the roll, he hit the stop button and smiled down into her flushed face. "Very good, you didn't stumble once. You've beaten your record by a good ten seconds." Before he could say anything else, there was a muted ringing from inside his jacket. Tilting his head towards the rack of free weights across the room, he pulled a small cell phone from the jacket's inner pocket. Willow headed over to the weights as he answered the phone.

"Hello?...Oh, hey Joe..."

Blue eyes moved from the man, who was now fully engrossed in his conversation, to follow the hacker's movements on the other side of the room. After a few quick stretches, she had picked up two medium sized barbells and began going through sets of arm exercises. It was clear from the girl's perfect form and balance that she had done these exercises many times as she moved from position to position, working all the major upper body muscle groups.

He noticed, for the first time, that her arms and legs were much firmer and more muscular than he remembered. Since she had been wearing long sleeved tops and pants, he had not really seen the change before now. As he moved his gaze slowly over her, he also saw several bandages, the largest ones being in the middle of her right calf and over left shoulder. There were also various cuts, scrapes, and bruises littering the pale flesh. *So that's why she's been dressin' like that. Must not want her mates to see, which means she doesn't want them to know she's been workin' with the dark-haired bloke. Hmmm, interesting. Red's got herself a little secret.*

Spike was pulled from his thoughts as the man put away his cell phone and started over towards the redhead. Seeing his approach, Willow set down her weights and stretched the muscles she had been working. "So, what do you want to work on next?" he questioned.

"Um, how about doing some hand to hand. I'm still having trouble with some of the blocks and footwork."

"Sure. I'll get your practice gloves and we can get started."

Pulling her sweat-soaked tank over her head, she used it to wipe the moisture from her face and neck. Setting the top on the bench and grabbing a water bottle, she drank greedily as she walked over to join her friend and teacher in the ring. As she turned, facing Spike's hiding spot, the vampire caught sight of a large white bandage covering the lower left corner of her stomach. It was obvious by her well-toned abs that her work-out routine included more than what he had seen that evening.

For the next thirty minutes the two went over several defensive moves including some the vampire recognized as coming from different karate and judo disciplines. They then began going over the basics of savat, or French foot fighting. Once she could hold the positions and go through the movements in slow motion, the older man had her repeat each sequence over and over, making her increase her speed with every repetition.

The duo went on like that for almost an hour before she could perform the moves without loosing her balance. The blonde was surprised at how fast she seemed to grasp the various concepts. He also saw first hand how she must have gotten all the bruises, having watched her fall hard on the mat numerous times. After nearly two and a half hours in the ring, she was moving fluidly on her feet, despite the pain her injuries must have been causing her. Spike was impressed with her stamina and athleticism; almost not believing it was the same girl who barely managed to stake a fledgling without the slayer's assistance.

*I bet that's one reason she don't patrol with Slutty anymore. Her new fightin' ability would probably raise too many questions. 'Specially if she don't want the annoying twits to know what she's been doin'. Well that, and the fact that she must spend a hell of a lot of time working out to be as good as she is. And as sculpted, damn the chit's hot. I gotta admit; she was pretty before, in that sweet innocent way, but bloody hell. I've always 'ad a thing for strong women.* The novice witch had always been the only member of the rag-tag evil fighters that he actually liked, and who could actually carry on an intelligent conversation, besides the watcher.

If he was completely honest with himself, he'd admit that he might even have a bit of a crush on the girl. Her innocence was enticing, and it was a lot of fun to see how many times he could make her blush in one conversation. The young woman he had seen in the last few hours, however, was quite different than the shy hacker he had always thought she was. But this new development just made him want her all the more. Of course, he, William the Bloody, would never admit that fact aloud. Yet, whether he spoke it out loud or not, it was still true.

His musings were cut short once more as the object of his thoughts exited the ring, downing half the bottle of water as she went through a previously unnoticed door. Several minutes later, she returned, having changed back into the clothes she had worn to the club. The vampire assumed she must have taken a quick shower to rinse off, since her hair was wet. While she had been changing, her instructor had gathered her things for her. Handing them to the tired girl, the two made their way back into the main room of the club.

Spike left his hideout as well, following them back to the hacker's at a discrete distance. When they reached the Rosenberg's front porch, he hid nearby, just close enough to be able to catch their conversation, yet not close enough to be 'detected' by the girl's companion as he had that first night.

"Great job tonight Mys. I think you made a lot of progress."

"Thanks Trav. I think I've finally nailed that course. It sure took me long enough though."

The gentleman smiled at this, shaking his head slightly. "You're too hard on yourself. Your times are a lot better than I would have expected from someone who's only been running that course for under two months. Then again, you always seem to catch on to everything a little faster than I anticipate." Her cheeks reddened slightly at the compliment and he let out a small laugh. "I'll tell you what. Since you've made such great progress on the physical aspects of your training, why don't we work on the magical stuff for a while?"

Her face lit-up, a grin forming on her lips as she looked at Adam. "Really? Cool! I've been working real hard on my focus and concentration, and I'm getting better at the new illusions you told me to try."

"Good. We'll meet at the crypt tomorrow, at say, seven-thirty?"

"All right, I'll see you then. 'Night."

"Goodnight Willow." The two hugged, exchanging light kisses on either cheek before the man left and she went inside.

*Seven-thirty eh? I guess I've got plans for tomorrow night.* A match was struck, flaring bright against the night sky momentarily as the vampire lit a cigarette, expelling a cloud of smoke from dead lungs as he made his way towards the librarian's apartment.

End Chapter Five


	5. Chapter 6 and 7

Chapter Six

She wasn't at the meeting, having called the watcher and claimed a headache. When the others were told this, the slayer announced that the witch had not been at the dorm the night before. Of course, the former vengeance demon had immediately deduced that Willow had 'had too much sex with her new orgasm friend and must be too tired to come.'

The vampire had already known the girl had stayed at her parent's home again, but he knew the real reason she wasn't at the apartment was because of the appointment she had made with her mystery guy. However, her call had given him the perfect excuse to leave. Stating that 'if the little witch doesn't have to put up with you bloody people, then I sure as hell ain't gonna' he had left the librarian's before anyone could argue. He was glad he had left when he did, having barely managed to get to the hacker's home in time. As it was, the girl and her friend had already been at the end of the block when he arrived.

Spike followed them to one of the small town's many cemeteries, where the duo headed directly for one of the large crypts. It appeared that they had met there before, since they had a blanket and bottles of water stashed inside. As the blonde stationed himself behind a nearby mausoleum, the two spread-out the blanket. Sitting down cross-legged, they faced each other and the man began speaking to her. The vampire assumed he was giving her instructions as she closed her eyes and began taking slow, deep breaths.

A faint image began to slowly appear between the pair, gradually taking shape and becoming more defined. The translucent apparition seemed to solidify, looking more and more real as the petite witch's brow creased in concentration. Within moments, Spike could make out facial features. The face grew more defined by the second until a startlingly familiar visage floated eerily in front of the now smiling girl. *Bloody hell! What the fuck is that chit playin' at?* He swallowed noticeably, too disturbed by the sight to form any other coherent thoughts.

"Alright, now relax your body. Take long deep breaths until you are completely relaxed. Now clear your mind. Picture the face in your mind's eye. Remember, it should be someone you know well so that you can picture it perfectly and make the image as realistic as possible. See it from all angles, see each part of the face; the eyes, the mouth, the chin, the nose, the ears, the hair. Weave the magical energies together to form exactly what you see. Picture the whole face, the more detailed, the better. This is supposed to look like a real live person. Give it an expression, think of the individual's personality. See shadow and light, this isn't a drawing, give it depth. Good, very good."

She recalled a conversation she had had with her teacher a month earlier and how he had told her that when performing illusions, you normally got the best results if you were creating something, or someone that you had strong feelings for. Whether it was a favorite toy from your childhood, or your very best friend, the more strong emotions you associated with it the more alive the product turned out to be. Especially if you were just starting. As she thought this, one face came into her mind.

It took little thought to give the face perfect detail, she had pictured it so many times that she seemed to know every aspect down to the way fluorescent lamp light played on the subtle waves of the short hair. The entire world fell away as Willow concentrated on the illusion. She saw the face in her mind, picturing the person in a thousand different situations before settling on the expression she wanted it to have. She focused on nothing but the face she saw so clearly behind her eyelids.

When she finally completed the task, she focused her gaze on the air between herself and her friend only to find herself staring into twinkling blue eyes. She let out a slight gasp as she took in the result of her labor. If it wasn't for the fact that the head seemed to sit on thin air, she would have believed he was actually standing right in front of her. The face seemed to exude confidence and sexuality, with the lips forming a sensuous smirk. Even though the cemetery was lit only by the moon overhead, it looked as if he was in a brightly-lit room with the artificial light shining on his platinum locks.

He was exactly how she had seen him in her head, exactly how she had pictured him so many countless nights as she repeatedly contemplated the hopelessness of her attraction to the neutered vampire. She smiled as her emerald gaze drifted over the face, allowing the evidence of her feelings for him to darken her eyes, knowing that she didn't need to hide it since it was not actually the blonde himself.

"Spike, I presume?"

The question broke through her reverie, shattering her concentration and causing the image to dissipate, clearing the air between them. She looked at her instructor, seeing the amusement in his dark eyes. "Yeah, how'd ya quess?" Her tone was flat and dry as she watched him laugh and shake his head.

"Well, considering how often his name seems to pop up in conversation, I pretty much expected he would be the one whom you would choose to use for the exercise. It is rather nice to finally have a face to put with the name now." She shrugged her shoulders, unable to form a suitably flippant reply as she wiped her wet brow with the sleeve of her shirt and took a long drink from her water bottle. "You look exhausted, why don't you head home. I'll put this stuff away."

Smiling warmly at him, she stood and moved off of the blanket so he could fold it back up. "Thanks Adam. I didn't think the illusion would make me so tired."

"No problem, and with the hours you normally keep, I'm surprised you had the energy to do such an excellent job." A light blush colored her cheeks as she gave him a small wave and headed towards the front of the cemetery.

"Night Trav."

"Night Mys."

End Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Willow exited the cemetery, turning onto the dimly lit street that would take her to her parent's home. It had been about a week since she had slept at the dorm. She was considering just moving back into the house to save on room and board, but was reluctant to leave Buffy without a roommate.

About a block from the house, she heard what sounded like a struggle coming from the shadowed alley ahead of her. Debating whether or not to interfere, she slowly approached the entrance. When she heard pain-filled whimpers from the darkness she pulled the stake from her waistband and cautiously stepped into the dark alleyway.

A vampire held a terrified young girl against the wall, his fangs hovering over her neck as he prepared to bite into the exposed jugular. Not wasting any time, the hacker struck out with her left foot, catching the young vampire on the side of the knee and breaking his leg in one swift movement.

As he howled in pain and turned to face his unexpected attacker, she spun and delivered a hard roundhouse to the side of his head with her right foot. Facing the enraged vampire, she quickly punched him in the gut while blocking his right-cross with her left arm. Before he recovered from the blow, the redhead lunged forward and plunged her stake into the vampire's heart. He exploded into dust and Willow went over to check on the crying girl. The brunette looked at her, shock and fear clouding her gaze.

"W-what w-was..." The girl's eyes shifted to look over the witch's shoulder, growing wide as her skin paled, her mouth opened in a silent scream.

Turning, the hacker found a pair of beady black eyes running over her body, the creature's lips twisting into a grotesque sneer, exposing vampiric-like fangs. This was no vampire, however. Telling the girl behind her to leave, the redhead watched the brunette run into the street before looking over the bulky demon in front of her. Its rough skin was mustard yellow with blotches of green across the face and chest. It had dark orange horns along its arms, across its shoulders and up the sides of its neck.

Kicking out, she connected with its jaw and aimed a left-cross at the side of its head. The demon simply laughed and backhanded her, sending the small witch into the brick wall behind her, pulling out a long sword as she struggled to her feet. Wincing, she swung her right leg into another roundhouse, knocking the broadsword from its hands. The demon smirked evilly at her as it reached behind itself to pull a second sword from a scabbard strapped to its back.

Eyeing the blade, she wished she had brought her own rapier with her to the meeting at the cemetery. As she thought of the meeting, she realized that her friend took a similar route to his apartment as she did to her parent's house. Hopping that he was nearby she called his name as loud as she could. The demon took advantage of her distraction, bringing the sword down and cutting deeply into her upper left thigh, causing her to cry out.

"Ow, that hurt, you asshole." Trying to ignore the pain, Willow turned her attention back to her opponent, attempting to remember her lesson from the night before.

Spike had been trailing the witch since she left the cemetery, his thoughts still on what he had seen, his mind too preoccupied to notice the hacker turn into the alley ahead of him. The girl's creation of an illusion had not surprised him, but he couldn't seem to figure out why she had created one of his face. If she was going to make anyone's image, he would have thought it would be someone like the slayer or moron. But it had been him. It was oddly pleasing to him that she would do so, but strange just the same.

A young girl rushed past him, the fear rolling off of her body in pungent waves. Watching her race down the street, he wondered what she was running from. Looking around, he saw nothing out of the ordinary. Actually, he saw nothing at all. *Where the 'ell is Red?* Thinking she must have gotten ahead of him while he was lost in his thoughts, he increased his pace slightly.

"AAADAAM!" The scream slammed into him. Recognizing the voice, he broke into a run, heading towards the source of the sound. He made it the four blocks to the alley in just minutes, but what he saw when he got there made him stop in his tracks.

A large demon had the redhead backed into a corner, it's bloody sword poised to strike. "No!" As the word left his lips, the demon plunged the blade into her stomach and an excruciating cry was torn from her throat. Seeing a second sword lying discarded on the ground, the vampire ran forward, picking it up and lunging at the demon. The sword the demon had been holding was still imbedded in the witch's stomach, leaving the demon without a weapon. Before the creature was able to fight back, the blonde swung the blade, cleaving its head from its shoulders.

Spike dropped the weapon and was at her side as the demon's head hit the ground. The hilt of the sword protruded from her stomach and her hands were wrapped around the blade in a desperate attempt to staunch the flow of blood. Despite her efforts, blood poured from the stab wound and the deep cut on her thigh, staining her clothes crimson.

Falling to his knees, the vampire carefully gathered her into his arms. Supporting her head with his right arm, he put his left hand over hers around the sword. He knew better than to pull it out, instead moving his left arm under her knees to try and pick her up and take her to a hospital.

"No...st-ay" Her voice was weak, barely carrying to him over the light breeze.

"Pet, we have to get you to a hospital. The doctors can-" His voice cracked when she shook her head, struggling to remain conscious.

"T-too l-ate."

"No, no, it ain't. You'll be fine. Just as soon as we get 'cha to a hospital." He looked down at her, not wanting to admit to the pain that surged through him at the sight. The color had drained from her face, leaving the skin a pasty white. Her expression betrayed the blinding pain that wracked her body as her life's blood pooled on the ground around them.

Slowly raising her right arm, the hacker placed her hand on his cheek, her blood-stained fingers making red smudges on his pale skin. His own hand came up, covering hers. "Sp-" She broke off, taking in a ragged breath. "Spike...don't...don't for-...don't forget...forget me."

"I could never forget you luv. Not even if I bloody well wanted to." Blue met green, and for the first time, she let the love shine in her emerald gaze as a slight smile played on her lips.

"Willow...I-" Her hand slipped from beneath his, falling limply to the ground as her head rolled back and her eyes closed.

"Noo, no..." The vampire lowered his head, his hand gently stroking her cheek, and did something he had sworn never to do again after Drusilla left him.

He cried.

The immortal had been on his way home when he heard his name called from several blocks away. If the night hadn't been so quiet and if he had taken the more direct route to his apartment he never would have been close enough to hear it. But he had, and somehow, he recognized the distant voice. He'd ran as fast as he could, but by the time he arrived, there was nothing he could do.

His chest constricted with pain. He knew it would happen eventually, but he had hoped it could've been avoided for at least a few years. He should have known better, they were on a hellmouth after all. From the alley's shadowed entrance, he watched the blonde hold his friend's lifeless body to him, the large broadsword still imbedded in her stomach.

The brunette's eyes took in the demon's dead body, it's head severed and lying next to a discarded sword. The older man assumed it had been the work of the grieving vampire, for although his young student's skills had been progressing daily, he knew she would not have been able to defeat such a foe. Especially unarmed and exhausted as she had been.

Shaking his head, his dark eyes tinged with sorrow, he left the blonde to mourn his loss. With his friend and student now dead, he would need to go to the city morgue soon. This would be the last night either himself or his new friend would spend in Sunnydale. As he headed towards his apartment to pack his things, he pulled his cell phone from his jacket and pressed speed dial.

"Hey Joe, it's Methos."

End Chapter Seven


	6. Chapter 8 and 9

Chapter Eight

City of Los Angeles: 2005

Cordelia Chase had worked for Angel Investigations for just over five years, and had been involved with her boss for almost two. She loved what she did, liked helping people, but there were some things about her job she wasn't terribly crazy about. Like going to a small wiccan shop at 8:00 at night to pick up an assortment of rare herbs needed for a spell to kill a homicidal demon. Yet here she was, standing in Merlin's Magikal Mart, waiting for the store's owner to locate all of the plants she had requested.

The bell on the door rang, causing the owner of the establishment to glance up, and see one of her regular customers entering the shop. Dana smiled over at the young woman and put another packet of dried herbs into the basket she was filling for the tall brunette. "Good evening Ash, what can I get for you today?"

"Hey Dana. I just needed a couple candles and some oils."

"All right dear, let me know if you need anything else."

The seer felt a strange sense of deja vu as she listened to the shop keeper speak with the new arrival. There was something oddly familiar about the voice. As the other customer approached the rack of aromatherapy candles across the store from her, the former cheerleader examined the girl Dana had called Ash from the corner of her eye.

The first thing the secretary noticed was the black motorcycle helmet in the woman's left hand. The second, was her clothes. She wore a pair of black boot-cut leather pants and heeled black boots. A tight black muscle tank exposed a thin strip of pale flesh between the bottom of the top and the low ridding pants. Despite the warm night, the woman had on a thigh length fitted black leather jacket. The waist length hair hung over the leather-clad shoulder so Cordelia was unable to see her face. The hair was a dark red color that made the secretary think of a shy hacker she once knew in high school. That thought brought a twinge of sadness, as she remembered the witch's death and she turned her attention back to the woman next to her.

The crimson-colored tresses were braided into hundreds of thin plates with a thin black ribbon woven into each braid. As the young woman turned slightly, the brunette saw a necklace resting against the black tank; it was a silver claw grasping a small crystal. There was also a thick black leather dog collar around her neck that was covered with sharp looking silver spikes. If it wasn't for the steady rise and fall of the redhead's chest, the seer would have thought she might've been a vampire.

Chocolate orbs followed Ash to the counter where the girl paid for her items. "Oh, I wanted to tell you, the book you ordered last week should be in the day after tomorrow."

"Thanks Dana, Mac and I will be by for it after we close the shop if that's all right."

"Of course dear. I'll see you then. Blessed Be."

"G'night, Goddess bless."

As the redhead and owner exchanged good byes, the girl turned to wave at the older woman and Cordelia got a clear view of her face. The seer gasped, the makeup was dark and heavy, the expression hard and set, the emerald eyes completely lacking in their former bright optimistic innocence, but the face was still recognizable.

Absently taking and paying for the herbs, the brunette headed out into the warm evening and towards the large hotel that held the headquarters for Angel Investigations, her thoughts repeating themselves over and over again. Willow Rosenberg was alive.

End Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

The two vampires entered the antique store, looking over the different items. Sire and childe both stopped short as an odd feeling swept over them. Spike glanced at the brunette next him, and could tell by the expression on his companion's face that he felt it as well. The last time he had experienced that particular feeling was when he had first seen the strange dark-haired man with Willow over five years before. He had never mentioned the occurrence to his sire when he had moved down to LA, having been too wrapped up in his grief to think much about anything other than the hacker's death.

He had come to stay with the elder vampire to escape the painful memories in Sunnydale, subconsciously seeking the comfort of the only father he had ever known. The blonde had received the solace he was looking for and had stayed in the large city and helped the small group at the detective agency. The girl's death, and the sudden realization of his feelings for her had left a wound that was still healing.

Hearing the store owner's approach, Spike shook off his melancholy thoughts and followed his sire to the counter. He watched Angel speak to the other brunette and waited for the two men to finish so he could go back to the hotel and beat the crap out of the punching bag. The proprietor brought out the axe Wesley had dropped off to be repaired several days before. Thanking the man, Angel and Spike left the store and went back to the Hyperion.

Duncan watched the two men leave the shop. He knew they weren't immortals, instead deducing that they must have been vampires to have given him the odd tingling sensation he had felt when they entered the shop. He had never encountered vampires that were as seemingly harmless as those two had been and he wondered how they had come to be that way. He was pulled from his thoughts as he felt his small friend enter the back of the store and noticed that she was holding a bag from her favorite wiccan store.

When Methos, or Adam as he went by now, had told him she was a witch he had been quite skeptical. He had known a couple witches in his long lifetime but the small girl didn't look anything like them. Any doubts, however, were thrown out the window when he had watched her light a cigarette from a small flame that had appeared on the tip of her index finger, only to disappear when she had finished. Then of course there were the levitations, illusions, and teleportations she performed semi regularly.

As he always did, Duncan felt a pang of sorrow as he looked into her eyes. She had seen so much, been through so much, in her young lifetime. She was a strong one though, stronger than he had imagined. What really got to him, however, was how jaded and bitter she had become, especially considering how innocent she'd been just five years before, despite all she had experienced in her hometown. Immortality had scarred her, though. He assumed it had a lot to do the Game; the rules had been hard for her to accept.

But it was more than that, he knew. She never spoke of her life before her first death, but from what Methos had told him, she had left behind some very close friends. Duncan never questioned her about her past but he had always been curious about the people that had meant so much to the girl. The Scotsman wasn't even very good friends with her himself, but he hoped that would change someday.

She never let anyone close, except Methos. Then again, Methos was the one who had found her – well he hadn't exactly found her so much as been drawn to her, something about a magical connection having formed when he'd seen her that had led him to approaching her online and forming a friendship with her. Anyway, Methos had trained her, and was the one who had helped her through the transition into her life as an immortal.

"Hey Mac, you in there?"

He pulled himself from his reverie, and shot the young woman a smile. "Sorry Ash. Were you saying something?"

"Yeah. Dana's gonna get that book in the day after tomorrow. I told her we'd be there to get it after we close up."

"Ok."

"So, what are we havin' for dinner tonight?" Closing the shop for the night, the two immortals headed to their favorite cafe to catch a quick meal before their evening sword practice.

End Chapter Nine


	7. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

The two vampires entered the hotel, the blonde heading up the stairs to his room to make good use of his personal punching bag while his sire went over to his office. When Angel opened the door, he found his lover waiting for him. Giving the brunette a kiss, he noted the troubled expression on her beautiful face. "What's wrong CC?"

"Where's Spike?" Cordelia had been running over the events at the shop for the last thirty minutes as she waited for the vampires to return and while she was sure the woman she had seen was indeed Willow, she wasn't sure whether to tell the blonde. He had been so strongly affected by the hacker's death that the seer didn't know how he would react to the news and thought it would be better to investigate further before he was told.

"Upstairs, why?" Closing the door, he sat next to his secretary, trying to figure out what was going on.

Deciding that the best approach would be to just tell him straight out, she looked him straight in the eye. "I saw Willow."

Sadness filled the chestnut pools. "Willow's dead, CC."

"I know that, but I saw her. Alive. Tonight at the shop, when I was getting the herbs, I saw her. She looks a lot different, and I think she goes by Ash now, but it was her, I know it was." By now, the former cheerleader was pacing the large office as she explained what had happened less than an hour before.

Angel listened intently as she described the events that had transpired at the small store. When she was done with the short narrative, he shook his head, not quite sure what to make of the situation. Willow had died five years ago, in Spike's arms in a dark alley in Sunnydale. Her body had been taken to the city morgue shortly thereafter. And yet Cordelia swore the girl she saw was the same Willow Rosenberg.

*But how is that possible? Cor said she wasn't a vampire, so how can she be alive?* The sound of his childe descending the hotel stairs prevented further thought or discussion, but the dark-haired vampire was determined to figure out what was going on, and who exactly his lover had seen at that shop. Before he was able to make any more plans, that bleach blonde poked his head into the office.

"I'm gonna go for a stroll, see if I can't find any demons to pummel, wanna come Pops?" Angel nodded in agreement and gave his seer a quick kiss before joining Spike in the lobby. The younger vampire grinned at the girl's look of disappointment.

"Don't worry Mum, I'll have him back in no time." Chuckling at the young woman's muttered curses at the hated title, he led his sire out into the warm night.

Duncan swore bitterly as he followed the two immortals into an alleyway. He and Ash had been on their way back from the cafe when they had been intercepted by the man who had mistakenly challenged his companion. Many individuals had been misled by the girl's young age and petite form, thinking she would be easily defeated. Had he not known her, he might have thought so as well, but he did know her, and he knew what she was capable of. Her mortal background had prepared her well for her life as an immortal, add to that her magical power and innate fighting abilities and she was a fierce opponent indeed. She rarely used magic when she fought, opting for straightforward combat. However, when in dire straights or when up against someone who did not fight fair, she would make use of her mystical skills.

She may have only been immortal for five years, but she had begun her training much sooner, if only in the form of her experiences with the slayer. She also had the advantage of having Death himself as her teacher for this never ending test of survival. Methos, oldest of immortals, former Horseman of the Apocalypse, had personally guided her into her new life.

The two had separated three years ago, and she had traveled extensively before finding herself in LA where she had sought out the Scotsman on the advice of her friend and instructor. She was more than capable of defeating a foe two centuries her elder, but she was still young and relatively inexperienced.

This fact was barely evident, however, as she began to fight the older immortal, and Duncan positioned himself at the mouth of the alley to keep watch. It was good that he did so, for within five minutes two figures could be seen approaching the three immortals. The fight still appeared to be a stalemate, both combatants quite evenly matched even with the prominent age difference.

As the two men got closer, Duncan experienced the strange sensation that signaled the presence of a vampire. As he expected, the two men where the same ones that had been in his shop that evening. They obviously heard the sounds of the battle taking place in the alley, appearing to prepare to step in. The Game's unwritten code strictly forbid participation of any individual other than the challenged and the challenger, and so Duncan placed himself between the men and the dueling pair to prevent them from interrupting. Of course, they would not be able to physically disrupt the fight, Ash always constructed a magical barrier to prevent such an occurrence, but they could still distract her, an action that could very well prove fatal.

Spike and Angel had been walking for over twenty minutes when their superior hearing picked up the faint sound of clashing metal. Quickening their pace, they found themselves in front of an alley where two people were locked in battle. Before they could go any further, they were intercepted by a tall man effectively blocking their path. Angel recognized the owner of the small antique shop and was about to push him to the side so that he could join the fight when the man shook his head and placed a restraining hand on his chest.

The man looked both vampires squarely in the face. "I'm afraid I can't let you interfere." The words were colored with a slight Scottish accent.

Ignoring him, Spike walked past but made it only a few steps before running into an invisible wall much like the barrier that kept a vampire from entering a home. "What the fuck?"

Angel's attention was too focused on the young woman, successfully holding her own against an opponent much larger than herself to notice his childe's dilemma. The girl's appearance matched perfectly with the description Cordelia had given him of 'Ash'. He tried to make out her face, but she was moving too fast and was shrouded in heavy shadows.

The blonde soon forgot the force field as he became enraptured with the superhuman speed and complexity of the fight. The two combatants made use of the entire alley, executing maneuvers with their blades so fast the vampire was hard pressed to follow the movements.

As the three supernatural beings watched, the woman faltered almost imperceptibly, providing the larger man the opportunity to kick the sword from her hand, leaving her unarmed. She responded before the weapon hit the asphalt, dropping into a squat and sweeping his feet out from under him with her right leg while drawing a small dagger from her left boot.

As the man lost his balance, she stabbed the small blade into his leg, but with her arm occupied, was unable to fully block his backhanded swing to her face. Staggering from the force of the blow, she tried to kick out with her left foot but couldn't break through his defenses and he used it to his advantage, lunging forward and driving his blade into her stomach and then withdrawing it.

Spike was momentarily taken back to that day five years earlier when he had watched another redhead receive a similar wound in a different dark alley. He forced himself back to the present, forcing down the searing pain at the memory, watching the woman in front of him hit the ground, blood slowly soaking through her black tank.

She rolled away from her opponent's weapon, picking up her own sword from where it had landed in the back of the alley before jumping back to her feet. As the man lunged again, she sidestepped, and catching his blade with hers, twisted quickly, throwing his sword into the air.

Without taking her eyes from her adversary, she caught the handle, plunging his own weapon deep into his chest. Releasing it, she left the sword imbedded in his heart as she spun, her blade cutting through the air and her assailant's neck. His head fell to the ground as she hit her knees, her left hand covering her bleeding stomach.

As she knelt on the asphalt, clutching her wound, the faint streetlight fell on her face, exposing it to the vampires' gaze. "Willow!" Angel took an involuntary step forward, calling out to the witch.

Spike took an unneeded breath as he stared into the face that had haunted his dreams. Before either could do anything else, sparks of electricity struck the young woman, causing her to jerk and twitch. The bursts grew larger and more frequent as they bounded off the alley walls and force fields, centering on her petite frame. She slumped forward as the energy ceased, collapsing, her sword clattering to the pavement.

The magical barrier at the mouth of the alley held strong, even as her crimson blood poured forth from the hole beneath her ribcage. The entire situation was far too familiar for the blonde, and he was unable to move from his position. Angel was not suffering the same fate, and Duncan watched him pound on the invisible barrier as the elder vampire attempted to go to her side.

"She's fine. She just needs to recover." Duncan had been quite surprised to hear the vampire yell his friend's former name, realizing that they must have known her when she was mortal, a fact that would surely cause a problem and most likely require explanations. He wasn't sure how she would handle that, knowing she very rarely mentioned anything connected to her past, the subject obviously not a pleasant one.

Angel watched, horrified as the girl paled with blood loss, her eyes fluttering shut. "She's dying!" He didn't understand why this man was not letting him help her.

Spike soon broke from his stupor, and felt the pain twisted in his gut as he looked, once again at the dead body of the woman he loved. The pain turned to rage as he grabbed the unknown man by the throat and slammed him into the brick wall. "Get rid of that bloody thing," the vampire growled, gesturing towards the force field.

"I can't."

A sharp intake of air from the alley drew the blonde's attention before he could respond. Letting go of the man, Spike rushed to his sire's side and the two vampires struggled to comprehend what they were seeing. Willow was slowly pulling herself to her feet, a low moan escaping her lips. "Well, that was fun."

Her voice dripped with sarcasm, void of the light cheer the duo remembered from so long ago. She looked up and they were shocked by the blank stare in the now dull green eyes. The innocent luster was gone from the emerald pools, in matching with the harsh lines of bitter experience that marred her beautiful face. The firm line of her lips was in total contrast to the smile that had almost always lingered there in the past.

Shaking off the last dredges of discomfort and fatigue that so often followed a death, she blinked the haze from her vision, and sheathed her beloved katana in the hidden scabbard she'd sown into her leather jacket. Walking over to the immortal's body, she roughly pulled the sword free and mentally lifted the corpse into the nearby trash bin, not in the mood to dispose of it further. Dismissing the force field with a wave of her hand, she walked right past the two vampires and handed the weapon to her fellow immortal.

"Here, you might want this one, looks like it might sell for a couple bucks." Glancing over at the gapping vampires indifferently, she spoke steadily and with no detectable emotion. "Why don't you take them back to the shop? I've got a feeling they're gonna want to play twenty questions and I don't feel like discussing it here. I'm just gonna go home real quick and change, that asshole got my clothes all bloody and ruined my tank. I'll meet you there." She started down the street, throwing the last comment over her shoulder, leaving two speechless vampires behind her.

End Chapter Ten


	8. Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven

The tension hung heavily in the small room as the four men waited for the young woman's arrival. When Duncan, Spike, and Angel had reached the antique shop, Methos had been waiting for his fellow immortals. Recognizing the blonde, he assumed the vampires would have quite a few questions.

He had known the redhead before she had learned of her immortal status, and he knew how much she had changed from the girl they had known. It would be hard for the two vampires to accept those changes, especially not knowing what she had gone through the last few years. And she had gone through a lot. Dealing with her new life and the things she had to do to survive had not been easy on her. She had learned to live with the rules of the Game eventually of course, but at a price.

Methos remembered how difficult that first year away from her hometown had been on the redhead and he also knew discussing that time would be hard as well. She had put her time in Sunnydale, and the people she had known and loved there, in the past. She'd had no other choice. It was the only way she could handle the reality that she would never again live that life or see those people.

Now, of course, it seemed that wasn't quite true. He didn't know how she would deal with that. He was sure her former friends would want some kind of explanation, but he didn't know how much of one she would be willing to give them. So they had waited for her to arrive so that she could make that choice herself. He wasn't about to tell them anything unless he knew it was okay with her.

This announcement had not been welcomed by the two vampires, however, and it was clear by their expressions that they would not wait much longer for answers. Thankfully, he felt the presence of an immortal nearby and heard a motorcycle drive by the front of the shop, then turn into the alley behind it; his friend and protégé had arrived at last.

"She's here." As he said it, Duncan looked over at the older immortal, his expression showing that he too was worried about how she would deal with this turn of events.

"How do you know?" Angel glanced at the shop owner, distrust evident in his tone.

The Scottish immortal decided it would be better to not mention his ability to sense her, and instead pointed towards the back of the shop where his friend was cutting the roaring engine of her Yamaha. "That was her that just rode by. She's out back parking."

The dark-haired vampire looked at him with disbelief. "Willow rides a motorcycle?"

"Willow doesn't do anything; Willow's dead." All four of the small room's occupants turned to the door at the calmly spoken words. "Ash rides a motorcycle." The redhead slipped off her fitted leather jacket, laying it on the table next to the door before setting her helmet on top of the coat. She had felt her mentor's presence when she had rode up and immediately sought out his face, finding him situated next to the antiquities dealer on the other side of the room.

Allowing the slightest of smiles to tug at her lips, she walked over to him, where the two friends exchanged a brief hug. The smile widened ever so slightly when she felt her mentor's sword through his coat; oh how she had hated that sword when he'd first been teaching her to use one of her own. She remembered all the times he'd scheduled meetings with her only to come late or early, so he could sneak up on her and attack.

Those surprise fights had gone a long way in getting her comfortable with the weapon she now trusted her life to. But she still didn't like that sword. "Hey Methos. You're back early." Her usually indifferent tone was light and affectionate as she addressed him. He was the only person she actually let herself become close to. Even Duncan was kept at arm's length. The young immortal hadn't developed any real relationships since leaving Sunnydale. She found it easier that way.

Father and childe looked up at the girl that had spoken, not believing it was the same witch they had both known. She was dressed completely in black leather, from the jacket she had removed, to the heeled boots encasing her feet. The pants clung to her muscled legs, hugging her hips and flaring at the ankles. The sleeveless top had a scooped neck and thin elastic straps.

The long braids fell over her back, hiding it from their sight, but the straps crisscrossed over the alabaster skin, holding on the backless tank. The only color on the outfit was the sharp silver spikes on her dog collar. When his lover had described the girl's makeup, Angel had thought she was exaggerating, but now he knew she was not.

Thick black liner outlined the dark emerald eyes and deep crimson eye shadow was applied to her eye lids. Her lips were painted with the same dark red, as were her nails. As she tucked her plaited tresses behind her ear in a painfully familiar gesture, the vampires noticed almost a dozen small silver hoop earrings running up her ear.

Angel ran his eyes back over her form as his childe sat in stoic silence next to him. The brown eyes stopped at her right bicep where he was surprised to find a tattoo. A blooming rose was situated on her shoulder with its stem wrapped twice around her arm. Small drops of blood seemed to well up under the thorns as if the stem was actually biting into the flesh of her arm. The deep scarlet petals themselves dripped crimson, seeming to bleed on their own. He absently noted that the tattoo artist that had done it was quite talented.

His attention was still focused on the young woman who was in every way a complete contrast to the innocent hacker he had left in Sunnydale. He had had to force down a shudder when she had entered the room and spoken so callously about her own death; her eyes, cold and distant, her face void of emotion. He watched as the ghost of a smile formed on her face as she greeted the man Spike had told him was the one the blonde had seen with her in Sunnydale before she was killed. As he thought of the connection, a question arouse in his mind.

"Methos? I thought your name was Adam. Isn't that what Willow called you that night?" Spike had told him every detail of that night many times over the years, and he was sure his childe had said that the hacker had called out the name Adam. As he looked over at the girl, he watched any trace of the small smile vanish as all expression left her face and her eyes turned cold once more at the mention of her past.

The dark-haired immortal looked at the brunette vampire, squeezing her hand in an effort to offer her some form of comfort. "It's both actually. My name was originally Methos, but now a days I go by Adam. When you've lived as long as I have, it becomes necessary to change your name periodically. It tends to make things a bit easier and keeps me inconspicuous."

"Exactly how old are you?" His tone was somewhat sharp, annoyed at all the evasive answers he had received that evening.

"To be completely honest, I can't quite remember the exact figure, but I'd say I'm roughly 5000." The souled vampire stared at the man, caught between utter disbelief and amazement. "You didn't think vampires were the only immortal beings did you? Well, actually vampires are considerably more mortal than we are. Considering all the ways you can be destroyed."

Confusion and frustration fueled his anger and he had to force down his demonic face. "What are you? Are you a demon?"

"No, we're not at all demonic. None of us are quite sure what we are, specifically. Or how we came to be. All we know is that we are born as normal people, well I'm not sure if you could say that for me, but the rest of us were born normal human beings. If we suffer a violent death, we are from then on, immortal. The only thing that will permanently kill us is decapitation."

Angel shifted his gaze to the silent redhead, briefly meeting her dull, impassive eyes before breaking the contact as a chill made its way up his spine. "So, you're..."

She finished his sentence with indifference. "-stuck here until someone manages to chop my head off."

Her words brought back the fight he had witnessed between her and what he assumed was another immortal in the alleyway. As if reading his thoughts, Duncan nodded his head, saying, "Yes, many immortals try to kill other immortals. It's all part of the Game."

"The what?" The former Scourge of Europe found himself confused once more. The witch's disgusted voice cut into his thoughts.

"The Game. It's like one big fucking pissing contest. The only rules are that fighting is forbidden on holy ground, and fights are one on one. One 'team' is made up of headhunters, out for power and supremacy. The rest of us try and avoid fighting when we can, but we live by the Game, and participation isn't exactly optional. When you're challenged, you fight, it's that damn simple. And you're gonna get challenged. See, when an immortal is killed, their life force, their power, is released in the Quickening. The immortal that killed them, or the one closest to them, absorbs the Quickening. Headhunters basically go around fighting other immortals, trying to get as many Quickenings as they can. There can be only one, ya see, and they all wanna be the last."

"But why?"

Her voice dripped with bitter sarcasm and her features twisted with repulsion. "That's the thing. Nobody even fucking knows what the illustrious Prize actually is. Hell, the last immortal could be turned into a pile of horse shit for all we know. We all just run around cutting each other's heads off, saying 'there can be only one,' for no apparent reason. Oh, there's theories. Some think the last remaining immortal will get all the power and strength of every immortal that has ever existed, which if it ends up to be true and a headhunter is the one, could be pretty damn scary. And then there's the other theory. A lot of us think the last will become mortal again, and be able to have kids, grow old and finally die."

Angel looked strangely at the witch at her last statement. "Oh, right, I forgot to tell you. Immortal's can't have kids. Some fucking asshole decided to take that away in exchange for watching everyone you know die around you." A sickly sweet tone colored the words, matching the sneer that shaped her dark lips.

The girl's manner was quite shocking to the blonde vampire, who had known only the happy, sweet hacker from Sunnydale. Both vampires were having a hard time taking in everything they had been told, although Spike gave little sign of it. He sat next to his sire, still trying to accept that the woman he had loved, had grieved for, was alive. He had been watching her, and it was obvious that her new life had greatly affected her, hardened her. Still coming to terms with everything he had learned, he let Angel ask the questions.

And that's exactly what he was doing, his chocolate brown orbs landing on the now tense witch. "So, tonight-"

Her clipped tone cut him off. "I was challenged. I fought. I won. End of story." Obviously uncomfortable with the direction in which the conversation was headed, the young woman stood and walked briskly over to her jacket. "If you don't mind, I'm gonna go outside for a bit." Without waiting for a reply, she picked up the leather coat, opened the door, and went out into the alley, closing the door firmly behind her.

End Chapter Eleven


	9. Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve

Several minutes after the young immortal had gone outside, the blonde found himself having a hard time processing all of the information that he had been given that evening. Finding out that his love had been alive for the last five years while he had painfully mourned her death, was too much for him to handle in combination with the discovery that she was not only alive, but immortal. He stood, his restlessness no longer containable as he headed to the door. "I need a smoke." Hoping that it would calm his raging emotions, he stepped out into the dark alley behind the antique store.

Shutting the door, the vampire fished out his pack of Camels and was searching for his lighter when he saw the young woman leaning against the building's wall, smoking her own cigarette. He noticed that she had pulled the hundreds of long braids into a single ponytail.

For the twentieth time that night he tried, unsuccessfully, to figure out how the sweet, innocent, optimistic, lighthearted girl he had fallen in love with could have changed so drastically. Shaking his head, he continued his hunt for the lighter he was sure he had put in his trench coat. He stopped suddenly as the topic of his thoughts held a hand out in front of his face. Floating above her index finger was a small flame with which to light his cigarette. Holding the tip in the flame, he took a deep breath, igniting the end, before pulling away to lean against the wall next to her. Crystal blue eyes watched the flame disappear before she dropped her hand back to her side.

A sarcastic smirk twisted his lips as he turned to look at the silent redhead. "Ya know, those thing'll kill ya."

"So I've been told." His eyebrow rose in a silent question as he glanced back and forth between her blank face and the cigarette in her right hand. She shrugged her shoulder in response.

"They help me calm down, give my hands something to do. Besides, there's just something about the smell of leather and cigarettes. Reminds me of someone I knew once." Her shoulders rose once more as she tilted her head to the side, expressing the impossibility of explaining it further.

He nodded his head once in understanding and gestured towards her left hand. "You seemed to have learned a few new tricks since we last saw each other." He didn't have to mention the fight earlier that night for the witch to know he was referring to more than her magical method to lighting a cigarette.

"Not really much of a choice. We all have to do things we don't want to, it's just the way things work." From the underlying bitterness in her voice, Spike could tell she was nowhere near as accepting of the situation as she would have him believe. Silence enveloped the dark alleyway as he tried to think of something to say, but it was the petite immortal that finally broke the silence. "Eleven."

The word was said quietly, but the utter disgust with which it was spoken caused it to practically bounce off of the brick walls around them. "Eleven challenges, eleven heads, eleven Quickenings. Eleven lives. Eleven people killed with my sword, by my hand." The anger and self-loathing darkened her words and hardened her eyes as she looked over at the blonde vampire.

"In the four years I fought with the slayer, I barely dusted that many vamps myself." Her failure to use her former friend's name did not go unnoticed by the still neutered vampire. Nor did the shadows of guilt and sadness that fell on her pale face right before she lowered it, escaping his gaze. "Kind of ironic, isn't it? I spent four years fighting evil, only to become it myself."

"You're not evil pet." Pain laced through his chest at the hollow sound of her voice.

"Aren't I? Think about it Spike. We killed vampires because they killed humans. They had to kill to survive, and that was evil. Well, I kill to survive too. I kill human beings. They may be immortal, but they're still human. So tell me, how am I any different? How am I any less evil?"

He had never heard the hacker speak as harshly and with as much anger and self-recrimination as did the woman next to him. He could scarcely believe it was the same girl. Shaking his head sadly, he forced a sigh from his dead lungs.

"Vampires kill to survive, yes. But they also kill for pleasure, for sport. Vampires don't feel guilt or remorse for the person they murder, trust me. I've killed a hell of a lot more people than you have, and I don't even feel even a fraction of what you do. I've killed for food, and I've killed for fun. Somehow I doubt you can say the same."

Dropping the burnt out cigarette to the ground, he smashed it into the pavement with the corner of his boot as he continued. "I've tortured and maimed, and loved every minute of it. I've bathed in my victim's blood with a smile on my face. That's evil, ducks, and it ain't you."

Sighing, the witch took out another Marborl from her pack and lit it with her finger, turning away from the intense blue gaze. She spoke calmly with an almost indifferent tone as she remembered a discussion she had with her mentor over five years before.

"When Methos first told me about immortals and the Game, I didn't really think much about the killing. I didn't think about the number of heads he must have taken in his lifetime. It wasn't until I realized that I was immortal and a participant in the Game, that I began to think of what that entailed, of what I would have to do to stay alive."

With a fresh cigarette of his own dangling from his fingers, he asked the question that had been plaguing him since he had learned that she was alive. "Is that why you left?"

Taking a long drag on the nicotine filled paper cylinder, she let the question hang for a minute before she could force herself to form an answer. "In part, yes. When I woke up, I was in a body bag in the morgue. I remember how dark and cold it was in that damn bag. I don't think I've ever been that scared in my life. The last thing I could remember was being in the alley. I remembered an enormous pain in my stomach, and that there was a lot of blood. And I remembered you, picking me up, holding me, saying something about needing to go to the hospital, and..." Her voice broke off, as if she didn't want to continue, and instead changed the topic slightly.

"Methos told me later that he had seen me die and went straight to the morgue after packing his things. He miscalculated how long I'd be asleep and how easy it would be to get access to my body though, and by the time he got into the morgue I'd been awake a couple of minutes. When he got me out, he told me what had happened; that I had died, that I was an immortal. I could tell by his expression that we had to leave, that I couldn't stay. I never argued, just left with him. I didn't really want to go, Sunnydale was all I'd ever known, but I had to.

With your experiences with the hellmouth and everything, I'm sure my immortality would have been relatively easy for you guys to except, but I had still died. I wasn't the same person you all knew. Even before my first death I was changing, but that night I ceased to be Willow Rosenberg. I had a new life ahead of me, one I couldn't lead in Sunnydale. I had to become someone else, someone who could play the Game and win. I couldn't be that person with the people that knew only shy, innocent Willow."

During her speech, he had walked up and down the alley, stopping to examine the motorcycle parked in the corner. As she finished, her emerald eyes followed his movements and took advantage of the opportunity to switch the topic to a more lighthearted and less memorial one. "Nice, isn't she?"

Sitting down, and leaning against the wall, she indicated the bike with a slight tilt of her head. He nodded, walking around the machine to get a better look. As he continued his appraisal, he noticed a fairly large design on the side of the gas tank. A sizable flame burnt brightly in intermingling shades of red, orange, and yellow. Overlaying the fire was the word 'Ash.' The top of the name was a dark charcoal gray that got lighter towards the bottom where the letters appeared to crumble and disintegrate. Icy blue pools moved from the image to the jaded expression of the young immortal in silent inquiry.

Her voice was flat and her face betrayed no remnant of emotion as she spoke. "I'm not sure who it was, but I remember someone having said something about my fiery spirit matching my flaming hair." Blowing out a lung full of smoke she glanced at the word. "When a fire burns out and dies, all that's left are ashes, right? Well, I needed a new name, and it just seemed to fit."

End Chapter Twelve


	10. Chapter 13 and 14

Chapter Thirteen

The nonchalance with which she said it sent a shiver down his spine as he watched her put out her cigarette and rest her arms on her knees. Pushing the disturbing feeling aside, he casually added, "Plus, it's got the tree thing going for it." At her questioning glance, he elaborated unthinkingly. "You know, Willow, Ash, MysticTree."

His eyes were scanning the motorcycle so he didn't see her head jerk in his direction, her emerald orbs wide. "Now, if I remember correctly, there's a Celtic Tree Month of Willow, and one of Ash. I assume that's what the Mystic part refers to. That and your whole magic thing anyway."

He was pinned by a piercing jade gaze when he turned around, and as she spoke, he realized his mistake. "How the hell did you know about that?"

In a desperate attempt to evade the question, he plastered an innocent expression on his face, saying, "About the Celtic Tree Month thing? Well, I did used to help out in the Magic Box occasionally, and I picked up a couple-"

She cut him off, her tone sharp. "No, the name. I only went by MysticTree online, and I know I never spoke to you on the net. So how exactly did you know what my screen name was?" The slow, calm voice matched the icy glare aimed in his direction.

Cursing his own stupidity, he stamped out his cigarette and ran his fingers through his bleached locks. This particular topic was not one he wanted to discuss. While he had spent many nights and days after arriving in LA talking with Angel about the hacker and the events surrounding her death, he had never told his sire about this.

The information he had inferred from his findings had not been the type he had even dared to believe, let alone speak aloud. It seemed that he no longer had that choice, however, and he reluctantly explained what he had done that had given him such knowledge. Only by sheer will power did he keep the majority of emotion from his voice as he spoke. Keeping his eyes firmly planted on the ground, he slowly made his way to the mouth of the small alley.

As his story unfolded, his mind became lost in a tumultuous sea of questions to which he had no answers. After he had taken her body to the hospital and contacted her friends, he had wandered the town's dark streets.

Ending up at her parent's home, he had let himself into her room, and during his visit had found a discarded printout of an IM conversation between the hacker and her immortal mentor. In it, Adam had explained the proper way to perform an illusion of an individual. At the time, he had forcibly extinguished the burning hope that his findings had lit in his nonexistant soul.

His mind now conjured the same crucial question which he had contemplated that night so long ago. Could she possibly harbor feelings for a demon such as himself? He had witnessed first hand her use of his visage in her illusion. Could that possibly mean he had met the criteria for the subject of the magical lesson? And if he had, would he still, after all this time?

An identical battle of doubt and hope raged amongst the witch's thoughts, as his words took her back to that night five years before when she had experienced her first death. Fear gripped her as she realized what conversation he must have found. She remembered having studied one particular printout that night in preparation for her lesson on illusions from Adam.

Throughout the conversation the immortal had told her the best way to perform an illusion of a person for the first time was to use someone that she had strong feelings for and saw or thought of often so as to create it most realistically. The possibility that he had seen her project his own face in the illusion fed the flames of panic within her.

She recalled how she had let her emotions show as she died, thinking at the time that it would not matter if he learned the truth. But now she knew better and her anxiety increased as the possible repercussions suddenly seemed inevitable.

She had been aware that she might one day meet up with the blonde vampire again, though she had never thought it would be so soon. She had also contemplated the perceivable outcomes of such a meeting, knowing all along that whether he learned of her feelings for him or not, he would surely not return them. If he never knew, at least she could still indulge in the fantasy that he might care for her. The icy claw of fear tightened around her heart at the chance that he might have figured out what she really felt for him.

She loved him, that she knew. She had known it for almost six years. Though she had never thought that he would ever return that love, the barely discernible pain and sorrow that colored his words as he spoke of her death caused hope to ignite within her. *Could he actually feel the same?* With that question formed another; one she had to ask, had to know that answer to. Out of all the places in Sunnydale, why would he have gone to her room? "Why? Why there?"

Her unsteady voice drifted to his ears from somewhere behind him, neither having found the courage to face the other. He felt his own hope flare to life and somehow managed to answer despite his fear at her reaction. "You were dead. I guess I needed to be somewhere..."

For what must have been the first time in his vampiric existence, Spike was at a loss for words, not knowing how to express the solace his grief had forced him to seek amongst her possessions. "I just had to be with..." His voice trailed off and he had to swallow a lump that had formed in his suddenly dry throat.

He was angry that he was forced to admit the truth, and that he couldn't seem to figure out how. His frustration mounted, and mentally berating himself for his own cowardice, he blurted out the truth. "Bloody hell, woman! That shit was all that was left of you. I had to have time there. If I couldn't be with you then I sure as fuck was gonna be with your crap, ok?"

Shaking his head at the uncharacteristic sentimentality of his actions and mad that he had lost his temper, he took control of the fear that raged through him from the fact that he had finally told her how he felt without even knowing how she would take the news. He had always convinced himself that she wouldn't feel the same, but he still clung to the hope that he was wrong. After all, she had chosen to create his likeness in the illusion, knowing that she should use a subject for whom she cared deeply. And she had looked at him with such tenderness as she lay dying in his arms…

An offhand comment she had made less than an hour before took the opportunity to make itself known to the neutered vampire. Looking down at his leather duster, he turned around and made the largest gamble of his unife.

End Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

At some point during his speech, she had moved over to the bike, and stood facing the back of the alley. When he reached her, he swept aside the large mass of braids, his eyes falling on the image of an intricately designed dagger that was tattooed on her back, between her shoulder blades.

With the tip of his index finger, he slowly traced the outline. The grip, or handle, of the dagger was the long body of a dragon, whose tail curled into a circle behind it to wrap around a pentacle forming the pommel of the weapon. The dragon's outstretched wings made up the hilt while the blade seemed to extend from the beast's opened jaws. He felt her muscles tense as he grazed her porcelain skin with his finger. Leaning forward, he spoke quietly into her ear. "Leather and cigarettes luv?"

Her dying words to him floated into his mind and when he spoke again his voice was soft, but his tone serious. "I never did forget you, pet. Hell, I don't think I've gone a single frickin' day without thinking about you. Those first few months I damn near talked peaches' ear off, goin' on about how much I bloody missed you."

Grasping her shoulders, he turned her to face him, meeting her eyes with his own. Fear, and uncertainty were clear in the emerald depths as she allowed the carefully constructed walls around herself to fall away for the first time in five years.

"Really?" The tentative voice reminded him of the innocent girl he had known on the hellmouth. She looked down after he nodded in reply. She had spent the last five years hardening herself to the world, building her defenses, and in less than an hour he had reduced her to the shy, insecure girl she had been before she met Buffy.

"Goddess, Spike, I missed you so much." He titled her face upwards with his thumb and forefinger, gazing into her eyes in a silent exchange before he swooped down, capturing her lips in a passionate kiss.

Remembering that she had to breathe, he pulled away, gently caressing the side of her face. "I love you, you know. Have for over five years."

"Six." A puzzled look overcame his features at the statement. "I've loved you for six." A wide grin spread across both faces and they met in another needy kiss. Teeth and tongues clashed, years of pent-up emotions freed at last.

Reluctantly, lips broke apart, his husky voice filtering through the lustful haze that had enveloped the witch. "See luv, you're not dead, that fire still burns. Of course, I might have to conduct a few, more thorough exams before I can be sure. But I'd say you're anything but ashes." He ran his hands up and down her arms, his cool touch soothing her heated flesh.

"Well, we wouldn't want there to be any question, now would we?" Flashing him an impish grin, she went on. "So, maybe you should conduct those exams. Maybe back at my place?"

His lips curled into a sexy smirk. "I think you may be right. Why don't you let me tell pops I'll met him at the hotel in the morning, and we can get to work." He slipped back into the shop, returning a minute later. As they prepared to leave, he looked over at her quizically. "So, you won't ever die?"

"Not unless I get real sloppy and let someone chop off my head."

"Well, you know what that means, don't 'cha luv?" A slight smile played at his lips as he waited for her answer.

"What?" One delicate eyebrow rose, her tone playful.

"That you're gonna have to put up with me for eternity," he said, shooting her a large grin.

"And how's that?" She wrapped her arms around his neck, staring into the bottomless sapphire pools.

His expression turned serious as he cupped her cheek with one hand. "I won't let you leave me again, pet. Not now that I've got you. These last five years, thinking you were dead, they were hell. I won't do it again."

"Don't worry Spike. I'm not going anywhere." Lips met and tongues played, as the two melted into each other's embrace. A few minutes later, they mounted the Yamaha and rode off into the warm night. Together. After all, they only had eternity, and they didn't want to waste a moment.

End Chapter Fourteen

End Story


End file.
